


Humans: The Care And Feeding Of

by shewhoguards



Category: Discworld
Genre: Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:30:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewhoguards/pseuds/shewhoguards
Summary: Death is certain that he should be doing more to ensure the happiness of the stray human in his realm, but he can't quite think what is missing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ysavvryl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysavvryl/gifts).



"Are you sure you won't have bacon and eggs, Master?" There was a touch of pleading in Albert's voice and the perpetual drip on the end of his nose jiggled almost frantically with his eagerness to be useful.

 

"NO. THANK YOU."

 

"Or some porridge? I can do you a lovely bit of porridge, fried."

 

"THANK YOU, BUT IT GOES RIGHT THROUGH ME." And when a seven foot tall skeleton told you that it was best to assume he was talking literally.

 

Death eyed Albert curiously. He'd been mildly perturbed when the old man turned up in his - well not exactly life, as had Albert himself, but time had changed their interaction.  He’d felt obliged, as many people do when faced with a stray who refuses to leave, to provide sustenance though he wasn’t sure why. Something to do with being human shaped if not actually human or quantum no doubt. Then it had been necessary to create housing, or at least the illusion of housing; humans seemed to feel discomforted by living in a vacuum. It was everything a human should need. It was very nearly what the dictionary he had come across at the unfortunate demise of a famous author in Sto Lat described as a ‘home’.

 

And yet there was something not quite right.

  
  


***

“You’ll have to wait. I’m not going anywhere with anyone until I’ve seen to the cats.” 

 

It was always refreshing when the job was a witch. Rather than the usual faint bewilderment and mild peevishness at being dead, witches just got on with things.

 

“THAT’S FINE,” Death said politely. “I LIKE CATS.” He glanced at the Hourglass in his hand, the last few grains of Goodie Whittler’s life teetered on the brink of falling forever. There was Time enough for her final business whatever it was.

 

“You do? Great. Hold this.” A scrap of fur was thrust into his skeletal hands as the witch peered into the cages. A small tabby kitten looked up at him, his wide blue eyes staring into the infinity of his own gaze with mild curiosity, and then decided to chew on one of his metacarpals.

 

“I was hoping to get him rehomed last night but got let down. They wanted more time to be ready for him. People don’t understand that there’s never enough time - or space, or food for that matter.” Goodie Whittler sighed, shaking her head at the apparently heinous crime of ‘letting  everyone down’. “Well, he can’t go wandering around here on his own until someone comes by. Sounds too like the set-up for a ‘body found dreadfully gnawed, cat exploding by eating too much’ story. I wouldn’t mind, but no-one would ever take him after that. He’ll have to go in with Stanley. Granny Bootle is coming to pick him up around noon. She couldn’t get here earlier due to the goats. ”

She gestured to the cage and then retrieved the ball of kitten fluff that had been treating his bones as some sort of climbing frame.   
  


His bones felt surprisingly cold with its absence.

 

Death peered doubtfully into the cage marked Stanley, and resisted the urge to search inside his cloak for a small tabby-coloured egg-timer to check the sand level. Stanley appeared to be a black tom approximately the size of a small dog with the temperament of an irritable dragon.

 

The witch smiled, seeing his look and interpreting it correctly. "You're thinking he's going to eat him? Nah. Watch and learn."

 

She undid the door of the cage, placing the kitten inside. The formerly pathetic looking scrap transformed into a ball of frightened rage as he caught sight of the larger cat. Several angry cat swearwords were hissed and spat in Stanley's direction before the kitten bolted to hide at the back of the cage claiming a corner as his own.

 

Stanley stared at him a moment looking a little uncertain at this sudden challenge that he couldn’t really do anything about without doing extremely embarrassing and then, with immense dignity, closed his eyes and apparently went to sleep.

 

"Do him good to have a bit of company," the Goodie Whittler said placidly. "I usually introduce them far more slowly but if you have to rush off and die in a hurry, what are you going to do? And if you've got to stick someone in with a cranky old male like Stanley, best to make it one little enough that he doesn't think of it as a threat." She straightened up, dusting of her hands and taking one last breath. "Right, I think I'm ready."

 

But Death was still staring in at Stanley. “AND YOU SAY HE’LL LIKE HAVING THE COMPANY?”

 

“Well, everyone needs someone, even if it’s just to hiss and spit at now and again. Of course,” added the witch, as she stepped into her grave and settled down. “It does help that he’s neutered.”

 

***

“HERE,” Death announced a week later as he returned to his house after his rounds, putting his scythe in the newly acquired umbrella stand, which Albert was quite pleased he had managed to sneak in. He held out a bundle of cloth to Albert. “TAKE THIS.”

 

Albert automatically took the bundle being passed to him, and then nearly dropped it when he realised what it was. This realisation was hastened when the bundle started screaming.

 

“It’s a baby,” he said accusingly. You didn’t get much experience in the Unseen University with babies, but he did at least know what they looked like. Hypothetically he had been one once.

 

“YES.” It was hard to tell on a skull, but Albert thought Death might have been trying to smile benevolently. “A HUMAN BABY.”

 

“I can see that, Master,” Albert said, and sniffed and nearly choked. “Can smell it too, but what’s it for?”

 

“ROAMING THE WORLD TAKING VALUABLE RESOURCES AND TURNING THEM INTO WASTE MATERIALS WHILE BARELY NOTICING THEY ARE ALIVE,”Death said after a moment’s deep thought. 

 

“Yes, right, I can see that’s what humans are for in  _ general  _  kind of thing, but what’s this specific one for here and now?” Albert tried again desperately. “It’s not exactly a suitable place for a baby up here, crawling about messing up all the hourglasses.”

 

“COMPANY,” Death said firmly, and made what was probably supposed to be a shooing gesture. It sounded like castanets being shaken on a string. “YOU WILL BE GOOD FRIENDS.”

 

“It’s a  _ baby,”  _ Albert said again with increasing desperation. The Unseen University had had children it was true, but rarely under the age of eleven and as Arch-Chancellor his main interaction with them had been glowering at them ominously from a distance and occasionally tripping over them. He jiggled the baby unhappily. “Look, you can’t just go handing babies over to random people. They’re fragile. You need people who know what they’re doing to make sure they’re all right.”

 

“THIS ONE IS,” Death said firmly, the voice of authority. “I CHECKED.”

 

“Oh gods..” Albert had no ready response for that. He stared into the small puckered up face. “What’s his name?”

 

“YSABELL.” 

 

“Right.” Even Albert knew when he was beaten. He heaved a heavy sigh, still holding the child gingerly. “Suppose I better fry her some milk.”

 

Death smiled smugly. Fortunately, he had the type of face which meant it was difficult to tell. 

 

He thought that perhaps it was better to wait until later to mention the neutering part.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
